


Fire and Rain

by blackiris19



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Dwalin, BAMF!Dwalin, Dwalin Is A Softie, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackiris19/pseuds/blackiris19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin carries a torch along with his axes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Rain

You could smell the rain coming. The air was thick with the scent of drops waiting to be shaken from the clouds at the first roll of thunder and you ran outside to pull the wash off the line. It wasn't much, just a few sheets and a frequently mended apron, but the bed clothes were the last you had and your bed needed to be made. You folded the things carefully and put them in the basket at your feet and turned at the same moment you smelled something else in the air: danger.

There between you and your front door stood a riderless warg growling deep in its throat. You held as still as you could while your eyes darted around for something to hit it with when you heard the growl turn into the gruesome sound of the thing licking its chops. It was salivating at the thought of eating you alive and for the first and probably last time you cursed yourself for living out here alone. It started padding toward you and though your mind told you to run your legs wouldn't move. In the end all you could do was close your eyes so you couldn't see the moment death reached you. 

You could still hear it, though. In these last moments your mind unreasonably willed itself to take in as much as your other senses could and just before it reached you, when you could feel the heat from its fur and smell the day old blood on its teeth you heard another sound: footsteps pounding toward you. Your fear spiked at the thought that its rider had caught up with it.

There was a growl and a snarl and a sickening thud delivered with a shout and then another. The warg yelped almost piteously. Two more thuds and then there was silence except for your savior's heavy breathing. When you heard no other sound you opened your eyes and nearly wept with relief.

"Dwalin!"

He looked up from cleaning his axes and nodded at you. "You all right?"

"Yes, I think so."

He stood and carefully laid his axes next to his pack. He was in front of you in two strides, reaching for your hands and turning them over, checking for any sign of damage. Next he took your head in his hand, turning it from side to side, running his thick fingers gently along your neck. It was the most intimate contact you'd had with any male in years, since your husband died, and you shivered.

"Cold?" he asked but the twinkle in his eyes told you he suspected you weren't. You nodded anyway.

"We should get out of the rain," you said as the thunder rumbled over the mountains. You lifted the basket at your feet, the cloth still folded neatly as though a chaotic scene had not just played out feet from where it sat.

He followed you into your tiny house and set his pack and weapons where he always did, in the space you kept clear in case he sought your company. It had been four full moons since you'd seen him last and six moons before that. He'd been checking on you more or less regularly since your husband died forty-eight moons ago and you were always grateful to see him. He would spend a few nights on his bedroll in front of your fire if it was cold or your door if it wasn't. If you had neighbors they might gossip about what the dwarven warrior was doing calling on the human widow but the closest settlement was three days walk north. He chided you more than once about being unsafe but you always countered that numbers didn't guarantee safety. Your grandparents had left Dale only weeks before the calamity.

He poked the embers in your fireplace and set more wood on top and added a bit more kindling for good measure. "That should warm us," he said, rubbing his palms together. You were still holding the basket against you when he turned around and his eyebrows knit together. You started shivering again uncontrollably. You barely registered his hands gently prying the basket from your grip but you suddenly smelled blood. You looked down to see it oozing from under the shields on his hands.  
"You're hurt. Get these off."

"It's a scratch. Probably did it to myself," he chuckled. You weren't really listening because you were finding water and bandages and cloths. When you turned back around he was watching you with amusement.

"Please let me look. I'd never forgive myself if you bled to death," you insisted.

He rolled his eyes but took off his knuckledusters as you asked and settled himself in front of the fire so you could see. He was right, it was a scratch and from the shape was probably from his gear. Still, grateful to repay him in some small way, you cleaned his hands thoroughly and tied a bandage around the wounded one, happy to have a task to concentrate on to keep the thought of what his hands had done for you at bay. When you were certain the knot would hold you lifted his hand and kissed the bandage. Then you turned his hand over and kissed the palm. With his other hand he lifted your chin until you met his gaze. You nodded your assent to the question in his eyes.

"Warm me, Dwalin," you whispered. 

He shook his head, looking anywhere but at your face. "You don't owe me this."

"I want this," you told him firmly.

He looked at you again and you could see his apprehension. You could not suppress your smile.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Of death you have no fear but of love you do. Why is that?"

"I am more certain of death. Death will not turn me away when it invites me in," he said. The tremor in his voice told you a thousand words he never spoke.

You thought back to all the times he visited you. Twenty moons ago he helped you patch your roof after a storm. Eighteen moons ago he taught you to defend yourself with anything you could reach. Ten moons ago he brought wine and split wood to get you through the coming cold and blankets because yours were threadbare. Four moons ago he brought more seeds than you would ever need in your life and lilies in pots. "You need some beauty, woman," he'd said.

He was watching your face as the realization dawned on you. When you looked down at your lap to hide the tears that were threatening to fall he tried to pull his hands from yours but you held on.

"Forgive me," you pleaded. "Forgive my blindness."

You kissed his hands again over and over. He cupped your cheek in his big palm, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Didn't mean to make you cry."

"I didn't mean to turn you away. I never thought -- "

You stopped and looked at him, his face soft in the firelight. His face softened whenever he looked at you, like your heart did when he winked at you. You should have known. You shifted yourself forward until you were perched in his lap. He closed his eyes for a moment. Lightening struck and the rain came pouring down.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek gently, his beard tickling your skin. You sighed as he dropped tiny kisses along your jaw and down your neck to your collarbone. He licked the spot that made you shiver and you moaned and ground your hips toward his. His hands snaked up your back pulling you tighter against him as he kissed your mouth, one hand fisted in your hair. You ran your palms up his chest feeling his powerful frame. You knew he was using his strength to hold himself back, to be gentle with you, but you needed to feel his desire. You ran your tongue along his bottom lip and he moaned into your mouth, his kiss becoming more desperate.

He slid a hand down your neck again, his fingers tracing your collarbone and dipping lower to tease the top of your breast. He thumbed across your nipple and the friction was so delicious that even through the layers of cloth it caused you to arch into his touch.

"You like that, do you?" he smirked as he untied the laces of your bodice and pulled it down exposing your breasts to his teasing fingers. His touches were feather light and you rocked forward seeking more. He gently stroked both nipples slowly at first and then faster and faster and all you could do was cling to his shoulders, the pleasure shooting up and down your spine. He lifted you up from his lap onto your knees so that he could reach your nipples with his mouth, licking and nipping each in turn until you moaned so loud they could've heard you in the settlement. He looked up at your face with a sly smile.

"You taste exactly like I imagined," he said as he licked just the tip of one nipple before suckling it, one hand teasing your other nipple and his other gripping your bottom holding you where he wanted you. You gripped his head as waves of pleasure took you by surprise and you cried out, your back arching. When you came back to yourself he was rubbing his hands down your naked back.

"It's been so long, I didn't expect -- I'm sorry," you said, embarrassed.

"I'm not," he told you, turning your head so you faced him. "That was just the first pleasure of many for you tonight. Help me get this off you."

You both stood and undressed. Dwalin pulled out his bedroll and spread it in front of the fire along with a fur. He held his hand out and you took it as you both sank to your knees, kissing each other thoroughly. After this was over you'd ask him to explain his many tattoos but for now you were happy to trace them with fingers, lips and tongue, making his breath hitch. You reached down and he held your wrist.

"Not yet. I want to taste more of you first," he said, moving out of your reach. He laid you back on the fur, his eyes drinking you in, stroking your hair. He kissed your mouth sweetly. You could feel not just your body opening to him but your heart, too. This dwarf would never hurt you, would go to any length to protect you, to care for you, even if it meant hiding his own heart. He kissed his way down your body, his beard teasing your skin.

He kissed each of your thighs as he slung them over his shoulders and blew across you, stoking the fire inside you. Your hands gripped the fur as he kissed your labia and ran the flat of his tongue up and down missing the bundle of nerves where you most wanted his touch. He licked slowly, moaning into you and getting closer with each stroke. When you thought you might have to beg he finally flicked his tongue against your clit once, twice and then raised his head.

"Ready?"

"Please -- "

He laid his palm on your mound, holding you in place and using his fingers to expose you to him. He circled your clit with his tongue slowly and softly, driving you mad with the need for more contact. He stroked your labia with his other fingers, getting them slick with your wetness before sliding one inside and pumping it in and out with the same slow, maddening rhythm. You tried bucking your hips but he held you down and every nerve in your body was straining to soak up every sensation his tongue and fingers were delivering. You started pleading with him.

"Please -- please -- more -- I can't --"

His tongue maintained the same lazy speed but pressed against you more firmly. It was almost enough but then he slid another finger inside and slowly stroked your secret spot and you knew it wouldn't take much more and then he tongued you faster and oh -- your mind spiraled away from you and lightening cracked through your body but he didn't stop and he didn't slow down.

"Dwalin -- "

"I said first of many and I meant it." You climaxed again before he finally stopped and by that time you were nearly incoherent. He smoothed his beard down, a twinkle in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. "Yeh see what yeh been missin'."

You were overcome by so many different emotions that all you could do was bury your face in his neck when he gathered you in his arms. You were quiet for so long that he leaned up on one elbow and looked down at you with concern, one finger twisting in a lock of your hair. "I didn't mean anything by that. I was just teasin' yeh."

"Oh you're quite the tease."

"Am I?"

"I think I'm better, though."

"Is that so?"

You got up on your knees and pushed him over on his back. "Shall I show you?"

He shook his head. "Right now I want to claim you if that's all right."

You leaned down and kissed his sweet fearsome warrior face. "It's more than all right."

He got up on his knees and ran his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer. His eyes were filled with equal measures of tenderness and lust and though you wanted to swoon into him you knew he needed this moment of stillness.

"I am no elf with words, woman, but you're the finest thing I've ever touched with these hands and that's the truth."

You ran your fingers across his chest feeling the scars raised against his skin. You kissed as many as you could, each press of your lips a wish and a prayer to ease the memory of the horrors that had put them there. His sigh emboldened you to seek his nipple with your tongue, swirling and licking till he pulled away.  
"You keep doing that and this'll be over before it starts," he growled. "Come here."

He laid you down slowly, taking care to move your hair to one side. He covered you with his body and you could feel his cock against your belly thick and hard and when you reached between you to stroke him he hissed with pleasure and his eyes rolled back. His breath came in quick bursts through his nose as he fought to stay in control.  
"Need to be inside you," he whispered.

You opened up to him and guided him inside. He sank slowly into you and you wrapped your legs around his to urge him on. He stroked in and out slowly at first, against your secret spot again and again, making you quiver and moan. He was shaking. You reached up and caressed his cheek.

"Let go, Dwalin."

 

"Dun wanna hurt you," he said, his words slurred with the intoxication of his pleasure and the effort of holding back.

You kissed his chin. "You could never hurt me. I need to feel what you feel."

"Then yeh need to hold on tight."

You slid your legs around his waist and clutched his upper arms as he quickened his pace. His head tipped back and his mouth opened dropping grunts and words you couldn't make out. The embers of your pleasure caught fire again as he stroked faster, his control slipping away. He growled deep in his throat and fisted both hands in your hair and you pulled your body up to him, needing to feel the slide of his skin against yours. He pulled your head back and bit your shoulder which only inflamed you more.  
"Always wanted you," he panted in your ear.

Your heart melted completely and your tears flowed again as he spent himself with a strangled cry.

He laid in your arms, his ear pressed against your heart, for an eternity that wasn't long enough. You stroked his shoulders and kissed his head, grateful for the gift of him, of his tender heart hidden beneath his fearful scowl, of his hands that brought you such pleasure, of his mouth that spoke words you'd longed to hear.  
"Dwalin?"

"Hm?"

"You said something in another language. What was it?"

"Another language -- oh, I cursed the gods of any who would try to stop me right then in Khuzdul."

You laughed. "Really?"

He moved above you, cradling your head in his hands. He dropped kisses on your forehead and your mouth but pulled back when he got to your cheeks and tasted your tears. "I did hurt you."

He tried to get up but you held him to you, shaking your head. "You didn't."

"Then why the tears?"

You stroked his beard, trying to figure out how to explain how you felt after you'd hidden it even from yourself. "You're not the only one who wants."

You could feel his smile as he kissed your mouth softly. "Speaking of wanting, I'll not leave you that way after all this." He slid one hand down your body while the other held your head gently. His fingers found your bundle of nerves again and slowly circled it. "I could feel you getting closer to your pleasure while I was inside you." You were so sensitive that even as gentle as he was there was a slight edge of pain until he dipped his finger inside and spread your combined wetness over your flesh. You closed your eyes and moaned.

"Open your eyes, woman. I need to see you." His fingers were moving faster and you knew you wouldn't hold on for long. His face swam in and out of focus and you clutched his shoulders. "Let go," he whispered. "I have yeh."

"Feels so good -- don't want it to stop -- oh -- don't stop -- "

You struggled to keep your eyes locked on his as you got closer and closer. His spread his fingers and grasped your clit between his knuckles and a few gentle pulls was all it took.  
"Dwalin," you breathed.

"I have yeh. You're so beautiful."

His body was still on top of yours so you could only thrash against him. You rode helpless and boneless on the waves of pleasure he stroked out of you. When it was over he kissed your forehead.

As you luxuriated in the delicious haze swirling in your head Dwalin found the water and cloth you'd cleaned his hands with earlier and gently wiped your body down and then his own. "Do you think you can make it in to your bed or should I carry you?" he asked.

"It's unmade," you yawned. "Besides, I think I like this one."

"A floor is no place for you to sleep. It's hard."

"I like hard things, though."

One side of his mouth quirked up. "Stubborn woman. No stealin' all the fur."

He wrapped you tight in his arms and you laid your head on the soft pillow of his heart. He stroked your hair as you drifted off. He'd take your heart when he left again but for now he was here and it was enough.


End file.
